Choices
by Trinity Everett
Summary: Five random moments and decisions that could change everything. Tony/Michelle. Spoilers for seasons 1-4.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **Five Decisions Tony and Michelle Made With Their Hearts, Not Their Heads

**Fandom: **24

**Characters: **Michelle Dessler/Tony Almeida

**Word Count: **7,131

**Rating: **PG-13

**Summary: **Five random moments and decisions that could change everything.

**Author's ****Notes: **I've never written a five things fic, but from what I understand this one is relatively long. Each part is completely standalone, meaning one doesn't have any relation to the others, and most are relatively AU. Spoilers for seasons 1-4.

**The Mission**

"Tony, can I see you in my office?"

Glancing down at his computer, and the final page of the report he'd spent the last three days on, he sighed, nodding into the phone.

"Be there in a second, Jack."

Rubbing his hand over his tired eyes, he tried not to think about how close he'd been to being able to go home and get some sleep. Instead he saved his file and locked his computer terminal, standing and stretching the kinks brought on by sitting too long out of his back. He left his office, crossing the bullpen quickly, hoping to get whatever Jack wanted out of the way. He was surprised when Jack waved him inside immediately, telling him to take a seat beside Gael Ortega.

"What's going on, Jack?"

Twenty-five minutes later, he leaned back in his chair and shook his head.

"You're crazy, Jack. You actually want to go back there? After what you went through?"

Jack folded his arms, glaring at him like he was a moron and he was missing the point.

"If we can get this virus off the market _and _take the Salazars down for good, it'll be worth it."

He acknowledged that without dispute. It was chilling to know that something so deadly was out there ready to be bought by anyone motivated enough to make a suitable offer. He'd said as much to Sunny Macer at the conference they'd attended a few weeks ago.

"It doesn't have to be you, Jack. Gael and I both fit in a lot more convincingly in Mexico, let one of us do it."

He saw Jack look down at his hands, folding them on top of his desk and shaking his head.

"Neither of you are field agents. Besides, Hector Salazar won't trust anyone new trying to get into the organization. It has to be me."

Tony tilted his head, conceding that as well. Good or bad, Jack was the link between CTU and the Salazars. "So how are you going to get back in? Hector won't trust your word any more than he'd trust mine. You betrayed the family and put his brother in prison."

Jack nodded. "True enough. It will take something major. They have to believe I've switched sides."

Beside him, Gael nodded. "We need to break Ramon Salazar out of prison, but we have to make it at Hector's demand. That's where I come in. I'll act as the go between, feeling things out before Jack approaches."

"We're going to fake a bio-threat and have the Salazars take credit," Jack added. "So you know, this has to remain completely classified. District, Division, everyone. It's a totally secret operation."

"No way, Jack. If I keep something like this from Division and it'll cost me my job. It's an insane mission that can only go from bad to worse."

"Maybe so, but if we want to get this virus from the Ukrainians, it has to be done."

"What about Michelle?" he asked, taking the conversation back to a fight he might be able to win.

Jack shook his head. "This can't leave this room, just the three of us."

"No," he argued. "First off, Michelle's my chief of staff. She knows everything that goes on in this office. She'll know almost immediately if I start doing shady things. Your mission will be blown and the secret will be out. Second, she's got more experience than I do when it comes to IP masking; she's an invaluable asset if you want to be able to use Gael as a go between. She has clearances and she has the skills to help. If you want me, you get her too, because third, I'm not going to lie to her about something this big. I don't particularly care for sleeping on the couch in my office."

Finally Jack nodded in acquiescence, smirking just slightly as he wiped a hand across his forehead. "Fine, Tony. You win. Get her up here."

His relief surprised him. It wasn't like he'd never kept something from her before, but this was arguably the biggest. There was a difference between telling her that he couldn't tell her anything about the mission, and not even being able to tell her there _was _a mission. This could possibly cost all of them their jobs; he wouldn't let it cost him his wife's trust too.

"Hey, I was just about to head up to your office to wait for you," she greeted cheerily. He turned in his chair, finding her watching him from her desk.

"Can you come up here for a second? We need to talk to you."

"Sounds serious. I'm not being fired for having the hots for my boss, am I?" she asked teasingly.

"Not unless you're talking about Jack," he retorted. "Just get up here, Michelle."

He watched her make her way across the bullpen and up the stairs, smile still in place. When she opened the door and saw the three of them, her smile faltered just slightly.

"I'm not being fired, right?"

"Of course not, come sit." He gave her his chair and perched against the filing cabinet beside her. She gave them all a questioning look until he shrugged. "Your plan, Jack, you tell her."

He couldn't help but snicker at the stunned look on her face when Jack finished outlining the plan.

"You want to deceive the president? Jack, he's your biggest ally, if you do something like this, it could totally undermine your credibility with him."

"It's a risk I'm willing to take."

"And what about us? Gael, Tony, and me? We could lose our jobs, even go to jail for this. It's one thing to go undercover, but faking a bio-threat? That'll cause mass panic; it'll cost the state –"

"It'll be worth it to get the Cordilla virus off the streets. I'm sure that when the investigations are over, you all will be reinstated."

Michelle's eyes were wide, and he could see how unconvinced she was when she looked to him for guidance. He knew she'd agree if he did. He sighed, crossing his arms and nodding. There would be serious consequences, but he could accept them.

"Alright, Jack. We'll follow your lead."

Later that night she sat cuddled under his arm, palm resting on his thigh as the other stole popcorn from his bowl. He'd given up on telling her to get her own; she'd just claim she hated the stuff and eat his anyway.

He grinned when their hands met in the bowl, and he flicked a kernel of popcorn at her.

"You think it needs more butter?"

"No, I think the stick you already put on it is fine," she cracked, making a face and curling her butter-slicked thumb around his. She grinned, tilting her head back, indicating that she was expecting a kiss as reward for her incredible wit.

He flicked his tongue lightly against her lower lip, tasting salt and the previously mentioned butter. He laughed when she licked him back, smiling naughtily.

Pulling away, she stole another few pieces of popcorn, chomping down on them loudly.

"Very attractive, Michelle," he teased, finishing the rest of the bowl and stretching forward to leave it on the coffee table. She huffed, pinching his thigh through his jeans. Growling, he wiggled his greasy fingers in her face, moving them closer to her nose.

"Tony! Tony, no! Don't you touch me with those!" she shrieked, leaping up from the couch and forcing him to chase her.

He pinned her, the both of them still laughing, against the kitchen counter. Artfully she grabbed his wrist and shoved his butter covered hand under the faucet, slicking their hands together with soap and washing away the remnants of their snack.

"Crafty," he praised. She grinned at him over her shoulder, raising her wet fingers to wipe the grease from his mouth, too. She did the same for herself and cut off the water.

Slipping away from the counter, she reached for a towel to dry her hands. Without turning around, she offered it to him. Instead of taking it, he curled his arms around her, cupping her breasts and leaving twin wet handprints on her grey t-shirt.

"Tony!"

He kissed her neck, squeezing his hands gently. "We should get you out of those wet clothes."

Nodding absently, she tilted her head to one side.

"Honey?"

"Mmhmm?" he kissed her skin again.

"What made you tell me about Jack's plan? You would have been completely within your rights not to."

His gentle affection stilled, and he sighed into her neck. "It's a big mission; Jack needs people he can trust if it's going to work. And I can't lie to you."

She curled her arm back around his neck, twisting her fingers into his hair.

"Thank you."


	2. Chapter 2

Hey everyone. Thanks so much to all those that read and told me they enjoyed the first part. I like to think of these five things as what 'could have been's, not what' should have been's - an alternate perspective if you will - so that's the idea I tried to keep in mind when writing them. Thank you all for being so wonderfully supportive. I was having a bit of a bad month, and wasn't able to write for a few weeks, so it's nice to see that I haven't lost my mojo.

Enjoy!

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**The Hospital**

"Jack, what's going on? Where's Tony?" she demanded, trying to keep the frantic edge out of her voice. Judging by the concerned looks she was getting, she assumed she was failing pretty miserably.

"He's been shot."

"How bad?"

"He was shot in the neck. He's still alive; they're getting him to the hospital now."

She braced herself against the desk in front of her. "Oh, God."

Jack's voice softened. "Michelle, I know how difficult this must be for you right now, but you need to make a decision."

She bit her lip, not knowing what decision she'd possibly need to make. Tony was in the hospital, she just needed to find out where he was being taken and get the keys to the car from his desk.

"With Tony down, you're in command. If you want to be by his side at the hospital, you're gonna have to hand CTU over to someone else. No one will fault you for whatever you choose to do."

She looked around, feeling Kim Bauer's sympathetic gaze on her. Instantly she deflated. There was nobody to take over. She might not be experienced in command, but she at least had the tenure. No one else in the building had been there more than a year.

"I, I understand."

Five minutes later, after dealing – or not dealing – with Chloe and then Adam, she'd made her decision. She wouldn't be effective if she stayed. She was already making mistakes; not reacting quickly enough. She had to go to Tony. She had to see him. She had to know he'd be okay. She wouldn't forgive herself if he didn't- If she never got to see him again because she'd chosen to stay at CTU.

"I can't stay. Call Ryan Chappelle and have him send someone to take my place. I'm handing command over to Gael until then."

"But Michelle-"

She whirled. "Adam, I can't deal with this right now. Just do it!"

Stunned, the young man stopped. She never lost her cool at work, and he knew he'd pushed her too far.

He nodded. "Alright."

She turned back to her desk, gathering her purse and throwing it over her shoulder.

"Michelle? I hope he's alright."

Her eyes watered. "Me too. If there's anything that you can't handle, I'm a phone call away, but I'll be there until he's okay."

Somehow she made it to the ER just as the ambulance did, and her stomach nearly rejected the sandwich she and Tony had shared at lunch. He was so still, the side of his face and his clothing covered in blood. She rushed over to the gurney, reaching for his hand and raising it to her mouth.

"Ma'am, ma'am, you're going to have to step back."

"Please, let me see him. Please. I'm his wife," she explained, holding Tony's hand against her chest tightly. His fingers were cold. His fingers were never cold; Tony usually radiated heat, able to warm her up even when she was so cold her teeth were chattering.

Her other hand landed on his forehead, stroking his hair away from his closed eyes. Despite his ghostly paleness, she expected him to peek one eye open and quirk a grin at her, to apologize for the game of possum that had scared her so badly.

"Mrs. Almeida, we need you to move back. He needs to get upstairs."

Kissing Tony's knuckles she fought tears and stepped away. She immediately fell in step beside one of the trailing paramedics.

"Will he be okay?"

"If he gets into surgery soon, he should be. You'll have to talk more with the surgeon, though."

She nodded, wringing her hands and waiting for the next elevator. There hadn't been enough room for her in the one they'd taken Tony up in. She wrapped her arms around herself, covering her face with a hand. He'd been injured before. He'd gone into the field and gotten beat up, cut up, even had his fingers get broken. But he'd never been wheeled in on a gurney because he couldn't move on his own power. He'd never been covered in that much of his own blood. She'd never seen him so still. She'd never had him not smile at her and assure her with his false bravado that he was going to be okay.

The elevator doors opened and a kind-faced doctor in scrubs offered her his hand. "Are you Tony Almeida's wife?"

"Yes, I'm Michelle."

"Michelle, I'm Doctor Lindsor. I just looked your husband over and the wound to his neck is going to require some vascular repair. We need your consent to operate."

"Yeah, yes, yes, um, of course, whatever you have to do," she stammered, scribbling something that resembled her name on the form he'd placed in front of her. "Are you sure he's going to be okay?"

"Well, we can't say anything with a hundred percent certainty until we've operated but he's going to be in good hands."

"He's allergic to penicillin," she blurted. Lindsor nodded.

"The paramedics found the allergy card in his wallet. Is there anything else he has reactions to?"

Michelle shook her head. "Just that."

"Alright. I'll have someone bring you updates about his condition, and I'll come find you when we take him into recovery."

"Thank you Doctor," she whispered, shaking his hand again and fighting the urge to hold on.

Doctor Lindsor touched her hand, turning back to the double doors and leaving her in the waiting room. She swiped a hand across her face again before crossing her arms and starting to pace.

Alone in the lobby, she wished she hadn't come. At least at CTU she could try to do something to take her mind off him, off seeing him like that, so unlike Tony. Here, all she had was waiting.

"Mrs. Almeida?"

She whirled. "Yes? Has there been any change?"

The young nurse looked startled, but shook her head. "No ma'am. Doctor Lindsor asked me to give you this, though. He thought you might like to hold onto it."

Surprised, Michelle extended her hand, blinking as her husband's thick wedding band was dropped into her palm. Fighting the urge to sob, she clenched her fingers around it tightly, raising her closed fist to her lips. Tony never took his ring off, not to swim, not to shower, not even to do yard work. She opened her hand, touching his ring gently and looping it around her thumb. She'd pretend the warmth was from his body and not her own.

Her knees nearly buckled when, at last, they wheeled him back through the lobby, a thick white bandage covering the side of his neck. Immediately she went to him, stroking her hand across his forehead. He was still pale, the circles under his eyes dark, but he was breathing, he was alive.

"Mrs. Almeida."

She straightened again, but this time her hand slid down to grasp Tony's. She was pleased to feel that he wasn't as cold as before.

"How's he doing, Doctor?"

Doctor Lindsor smiled. "We couldn't have hoped for a better result. He should be on his feet in a few days. He's being wheeled to recovery now; you can go with him, of course."

She nodded, looking over at Tony's closed eyes. Impulsively she bent to kiss his forehead.

"When can he come home?"

"Probably tomorrow, I just want to keep an eye on him, make sure he stays stable."

She nodded. "Thank you, Doctor."

"My pleasure, Mrs. Almeida. I'm sure you'll take good care of him."

She bit her lip, nodding again. Silently she walked beside the gurney, still clasping Tony's hand tightly in her own.

As soon as they were alone, she didn't even think before she settled on the bed beside him, laying her head on his chest. His heart thumped steadily against her temple, soothing her still frantic emotions. Reaching over his body, she tugged his hand up and slid his wedding ring back on his finger before lacing their fingers together and tugging them to rest against her mouth. In the quiet, listening to him breathe, she finally relaxed. He was going to be fine, and she would be the first person he saw when he woke up, the way it should be.


	3. Chapter 3

**The First Date**

He knew nothing about it was a good idea. He'd already been down this path once, dating a co-worker, and as of a week and a half ago, he hadn't been keen on going down it again. He'd already tried to talk himself out of it – more than once to be precise – since he picked up the phone to ask her to dinner with fake nonchalance, reminding himself of Nina, of how easily he'd been entranced by the sway of her hips and the way she stole glances at him from Jack's office during meetings. He reminded himself of how much it hurt to have been played and betrayed, and how it had felt like Michelle was to doing the same when she went behind his back with Jack the other day.

But no matter his fears, she wasn't like Nina, it was easy to see that much. When he sat on the corner of her desk to talk face to face about things he could have picked up the phone for, and she didn't roll her eyes and snap at him in exasperation to get back to work the way Nina always had. When Michelle greeted him at the beginning of every shift with a shy, open smile instead of with Nina's exasperated sighs and orders to get his ass in gear. When he and Michelle reached for the same file, or tried to scoot past each other and ended up having to take a step back because of whatever it was between them making it hard to breathe, where Nina had always sighed and shoved him as far away as possible, as if she was embarrassed to even be within touching distance of him. No, she was nothing like Nina. And that's why he wanted her.

It wasn't the only reason, of course. It was also her eyes, her hair, the ease which she smiled, and the way her clothing framed those fantastic curves. It was also because from the first day he shook her hand he hadn't been able to think of anyone but her. She was gorgeous and intelligent, and he was frankly a little terrified of her. Because she was Michelle, because she was his co-worker, and because he was just enough of a coward to need to keep his distance.

"Hi, Tony, I'm almost ready," she greeted with a bashful smile, which widened when he smiled back. "Come on in."

While she closed the door behind him, his eyes raked across and down her body, trying to figure out what else she could possibly need to be more ready. She looked amazing, and she was just wearing a strappy tank top thing on top and a flow-y skirt thing. After telling him to take a seat, she turned and walked back to what he assumed was her bedroom and he couldn't help but check her out as she moved.

She returned a few seconds later, having added some jewelry to her ensemble, drawing his eyes to the shining necklace just a few inches above where he'd previously been admiring. He flushed when she caught his eye and smirked.

Instead of blurting out the apology he was mentally composing – 'Sorry for staring at your chest, Michelle, but you've got a fantastic rack,' didn't seem quite sincere enough anyway – he remembered the roses he was still gripping behind his back, presenting them to her. He relaxed when her cheeks reddened at his gift and she took the flowers from him, sniffing them delicately.

"You didn't have to do this," she protested quietly, fingering one of the blooms gently. "But thank you."

She stepped closer to him, giving his cheek a gentle peck. A second later her lips left his face, but she didn't back away, instead glancing up at him with those gorgeous brown eyes of hers.

It was silly, really, to be so nervous right now. It was just Michelle. Michelle, who'd blindsided him with the idea that it was definitely _not _his 'information' that she wanted. Michelle, who'd gotten in his face and told him where he could stick his ego, Michelle, who'd broken down in his arms just seconds before she made his hair stand on end with that kiss. Michelle, who wouldn't let him take the fall for her even when he'd offered. Michelle, who'd been his friend practically since the moment she stepped foot into CTU, steadily ramming through his perfected disaffected routine and slowly making the idea of wanting anyone else into a crazy thought.

"So where are we going for dinner?" she asked softly, still so close he could feel her breath in minty-fresh puffs against his cheek.

That's right, he was picking the restaurant and she was picking the movie. He'd thought about going fancy, but decided at the last minute to tell her it was more casual, somewhere fun where they could eat outside.

"It's a surprise," he teased.

"Okay," she agreed, making no effort to move. "Tony?"

"Mmm?"

She touched his shoulder. "Kiss me," she ordered softly.

He did, leaning forward to cover her mouth with his own. Her lip gloss was sweet, her lips smooth underneath his. One hand landed on her hip and pulled her into his body while the other wrapped around her neck, tangling in the silky curls of her hair and holding her against him. She squeaked in what he hoped was contentment, dropping the flowers onto the couch beside them and circling his back, letting him slide his lips across hers again.

When the kiss ended, he rested his forehead against hers, hands still holding her firmly. He felt her shift and looked down to see her smiling. She was beautiful all the time, but he felt weak when she smiled at him.

"What?"

"I'm glad you're here. I know things got crazy the other day, and I know I haven't given you much reason to trust me, but I wanted to tell you that you can. I want to make sure I prove it to you."

Surprised at her answer, he brushed another kiss across her mouth, finally feeling brave enough to do it. She wasn't Nina, he told himself again. She was Michelle, and he did trust her. He didn't know why, but he did.

"Me too."


	4. Chapter 4

Sorry about the delay for this, you guys, I've been busy these last few days. Enjoy!**  
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**The Hostage**

It was done.

She was risking potentially millions of lives, but she didn't care. She was following along; she'd redeployed her men, she would let their one lead to Marwan get away in order to save him. She was doing it for him, just as he'd done for her. She loved him and she'd just gotten him back, losing him wasn't an option.

"It's done."

"Very good, Michelle. Tony was getting a little worried here. I think he doubts how much you care."

She bit her lip, hating how the nameless hostile's taunts were true. He probably did doubt it. She'd left him when he needed her, today she'd treated him so badly, and despite the part of her that screamed the word 'yes' when he asked her to go away, to start over with him, she'd still hesitated. She really had given him no indication that he would be her first choice.

"I did what you wanted, now let him go and leave," she snapped.

"Nah uh. You don't call the shots, Michelle. I do. And maybe I'm not ready to say goodbye to handsome Tony here. Maybe I'll take him with me."

"No!" she shouted, remembering half a second too late that Bill might be outside. "Please don't, don't do that. I've done what you asked, please just let him go."

The woman derided her again, asking her if Tony liked it when she begged, but her growing hysteria kept her from coming up with a suitable retort. Not that there really was one anyway. She might have broken more laws than Michelle could count, but the woman still had Tony. She was still holding the gun to his head.

"You'll need to do something else for me before I'm satisfied. Leave the building and go to your car. Take the quickest way to the four-oh-five. Call me from there."

Already she was gathering her things, stealing frantic glances down to the floor and wondering how she could leave CTU as inconspicuously as possible when she was in the middle of running an operation.

"Don't try to play me, Michelle. Talk to anyone on your way out, tip anyone off and I will kill him; I don't care how pretty he is."

"I won't, I won't. Can I talk to him? Please?"

After heaving a sigh in her ear, Michelle heard Tony's captor speak to him, and heard the shuffling of the phone being slid against his face.

"Michelle?"

"Tony, are you okay? Did she hurt you?"

"I'm fine, sweetheart. Listen, whatever you did, it can be fixed. Go tell Bill what she wants, go tell Chloe, tell them-"

She squawked when Tony's plea was cut off and the woman came back on the phone.

"I've got my gun pressed to Tony's temple; don't make me pull the trigger."

Sucking in a deep breath, Michelle nodded. "I won't, I won't. I'm not gonna say anything. I'm about to leave my office now. I'll go to my car and get to the four-oh-five. Just, don't hurt him."

"I won't if you get moving."

Pocketing her cell phone, and checking to make sure she had her keys, she left her office silently, tucking a chunk of hair that had fallen out of her clip behind her ear as she moved quickly across the floor. She couldn't move too quickly or it would look off, but she didn't want to waste precious time.

"Michelle! I just got a call from the LAPD liaison onsite; he said there's been a change in the search grids that he wasn't notified about?"

She couldn't turn around and meet Bill Buchanan's eyes. She wouldn't be able to hold it together if she did, and for as little as he knew her, he still would be able to tell that she was lying.

"I don't know anything about it, Bill. Talk to Jack and see if he's the one that made the change."

"Where are you going, Michelle? We're in the middle of an operation, you're needed in tactical."

She stopped again, touching her cell phone through her jacket pocket, wondering how much time she had before the hostile got impatient and killed Tony anyway. "Just out to my car for something. I'll be right back in, Bill. Have Chloe talk to Jack and let me know what he says when I get back inside." She flashed him a quick, hopefully reassuring smile and left, forcing herself to keep a normal pace until she'd cleared security and burst through the doors to the parking lot.

Her hands shook as she started the engine and she pulled out of CTU, as it finally sank in what she'd done. So many nights for the last year and a half she'd stared up at a blank ceiling, cursing him for letting 'them' get in the way, for taking the wrong side in what seemed like such an easy decision; she was not greater than the safety and well being of an entire city. Now she understood his knee-jerk reaction. She understood how it felt to be given seconds to decide if someone she loved lived or died, and she took back all the harsh things she'd thought at him at night from their lonely bed.

"Okay, I'm on the interstate," she announced, tucking her phone under her chin and looking in her mirrors to make sure she wasn't being followed yet. It was only a matter of time before CTU sent a team after her.

"Very good. Take the first exit for Sepulveda and go three blocks east. Park in the mall lot, a space closest to the exit, and wait for me. I'll know if you try to play me, Michelle."

She hung up, wordlessly pushing her phone into the spot in the console where she'd be able to hear it ring. Bill would be calling within the next few minutes.

Her phone chirped and she picked up on the first ring.

"Dessler."

"Our hostile's escaped, and you're nowhere to be found, Michelle. Tell me what I'm supposed to think?" Bill didn't waste a second before tearing into her.

"She has Tony. She told me she'd kill him if I didn't-"

"Dammit, Michelle! You should have told me! We could have set up a new operation."

"I couldn't take that risk, Bill."

He sighed. "I need you to come back in, Michelle. I can't let you-"

"Once I know he's safe, I'll turn myself in and accept responsibility for my actions. Just let me get him back, please."

"Where are you meeting? I'll send Jack and Curtis."

"I can't. She'll kill him if she finds out I've told you," she argued softly, pulling off the interstate and finding her way through the darkened, sketchy city streets to pull into the mall Tony's captor had indicated.

"Michelle, you took an oath to this country. I know how much Tony means to you, but that has to come first."

"I know, I know," she took a deep breath, not quite believing her agreement even as she said it. She'd already made her choice, and the country wasn't it. "I'm at the Sepulveda mall. She said she'd meet me here."

"Alright, Michelle. I'll dispatch them."

"No! Please no, Bill. Please. She said she'd know if I'd-"

"All you have to do is keep her there, Michelle. Trust me, it's what you want."

Looking around helplessly, she nodded and agreed quietly. She didn't have another option. Bill was well within his rights to send in the police and have her arrested right now, but he wasn't. She just wanted Tony back safe.

Some time later her phone trilled again, and she saw that it was the same blocked number. It was the hostile. Pressing talk, she lifted it to her ear and squared her shoulders.

"I'm here."

"Good. You are still alone, aren't you? We wouldn't want you to have gone to all that trouble for nothing."

"I'm alone," she assured, her voice shaky even to her ears. "I've done everything you said."

"Very good. You're such an obedient wife; I can see why Tony would jump through hoops for you. Hope Tony's worth just as much to you as you are to him."

Gritting her teeth, Michelle kept silent. She didn't need to have the mistakes she'd made with her husband continually thrown back at her.

"How much longer until you get here?"

The hostile laughed. "I'll get there when I get there, Michelle. Just make sure you keep your end of the deal."

Fifteen minutes later her phone rang again, startling the uneasy silence in her car. Michelle picked up quickly.

"Yes?"

"Get out of the car and walk toward the mall entrance. I kicked him out on the curb. Make sure you kiss and make it better before your tail shows up and takes you away."

The call ended.

She was out the door immediately, running in the direction she'd been told, catching only a glimpse of a dark luxury sedan pulling away and rounding the corner. Squatting down, she rolled Tony's groaning form over, lifting his head into her lap and running her hand across his body, checking for injury.

"Are you okay? Can you stand? Can you walk?"

He nodded silently, and she let him sit up, reaching for him immediately and wrapping her arms around his neck. He returned the embrace without hesitation, and she felt him murmuring comforting words into her skin.

"She was going to- I couldn't let her. I did the right thing, I know I did. Whatever they want to do to me, I'll accept it."

She felt him hold her tighter, felt his lips press against her neck. She shifted closer, burying her face in his throat, breathing him in.

Her phone rang again, and she only shifted slightly to lift it to her ear.

"Dessler."

"Jack and Curtis were able to detain the hostile on her way out of the mall. Someone is on their way to make sure you're contained as well."

She swallowed down the sudden taste of bile. This was it; she wasn't getting a free pass. She wasn't going to get a slap on the wrist and an order to never do it again. She was going to go to jail; she might never get to wake up next to Tony again, never get to fall asleep listening to the sound of his breathing, never get to do any of the things they'd said they would. Their fresh start would be done with a four-inch piece of Plexiglas between them. But she was going to face the consequences, even if she felt like fleeing to Mexico, Timbuktu, or somewhere in the Brazilian rainforest.

"Alright."

Bill's voice was softer when he asked, "How's Tony?"

In spite of everything, she smiled in relief, tightening her grip on the man in question. "He's alive."


	5. Chapter 5

**The Apology**

His hands were shaking as they lifted the phone from the counter. Bewildered, he stared at them for a moment before dropping the cell and squeezing his hands tightly into fists. After a few seconds he released them and the breath he'd been holding, and lifted it up again, pressing the first number on his speed dial. It was always possible that she wouldn't answer, that her phone would ring and ring before going to voicemail, allowing him to take the coward's way out. She could take one look at the caller id and refuse to pick up, too. Face it; he wasn't exactly her favorite person right now. Not that he could blame her, he wasn't his own favorite person right now, either.

"'Lo?" Her voice was husky with sleep which made him smile just a tad through his unease. He'd always loved when she was like this; warm and sleepy, ready to snuggle so tightly against him that he wasn't sure if he'd be able to take a breath without her knowing. Maybe that was the point. "Hullo?"

"I'm sorry; I didn't mean to wake you. I just-" he stopped abruptly, somehow unable to add the 'I needed to hear your voice' to the end of his statement.

"Tony?"

"I'm sorry," he repeated hurriedly, simultaneously telling himself to leave her alone and cursing himself for being unable to talk to his own wife. "I'll let you get back to bed. I'm sorry for-"

"No, no, don't! Don't hang up," she interrupted almost forcefully, and he could picture her sitting up and wiping the sleep from her eyes. "It's okay." She laughed in his ear, but it wasn't amusement so much as it was a way to fill the silence. "I fell asleep on the couch again."

"Oh." It was lame, but it was all he had.

"You do know what time it is, right?" she asked, but it was relatively without rancor.

He looked to the clock over the microwave, realizing that sometime between when he'd decided to call her and when he actually dialed, two hours had passed. It _had _been ten when he started.

"I, uh-"

"Are you drunk, Tony?" Now that held sharpness to it. He winced, scratching his cheek and looking at the coffee table in the living room. He had been drinking, yes, but he wasn't drunk. It had been just a beer during the game. The way it used to be, before he lost her, his head, his life, everything. He'd stopped long before deciding to make the call.

"No. I-"

"Tony, just go sit down and I'll talk to you until you fall asleep," she offered slowly, disappointment tainting each word.

"I'm not drunk," he asserted, finally finding his tongue, but not his ire. She was right to be condescending, to tell him how badly he'd fucked up. "I just wasn't sure you'd answer the phone."

Heavy silence ticked between them, and he heard her release a loud breath.

"To-"

"Listen, I just need to get something off my chest and then I'll let you go. Alright?"

He could picture her nodding thoughtfully, biting her lip to contain the sad grimace. He hated putting that look on her face.

"Okay."

He coughed quietly, not really sure where to begin. He'd never been good at doing things over the phone, he much preferred to be face to face, to see her eyes and know how she was really feeling.

"Tony?" she prompted. "I do have work in the morning."

He tried not to take offense at the unspoken 'unlike _some_' in her tone.

"Can we do this in person?" he blurted, despite the voice inside his head that was screaming for the opposite.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea," she denied hesitantly, and the softness in her voice reminded him of the reasons why. The last time he'd seen her had been the first time in their relationship, in his entire life, that he'd ever been the cause of the phrase 'You're hurting me.' He swallowed, feeling his stomach roll at that. He'd gotten upset, gotten in her face, grabbed her arm to keep her from walking away, and it had been the final straw. She'd packed a bag and walked out mere minutes later.

"Please, Michelle. Please. You know I can't do this over the phone."

"I don't even know what this is about," she snapped. "All I know is it's midnight and you haven't called in a month and all the sudden you want to talk."

"I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry, too. But I don't know what you want."

He refrained from growling. "I wanted to apologize. I miss you and I'm sorry. That's it." He sighed, looking around the kitchen again, missing his home with her even more acutely.

"I, I don't know what to say," she murmured. She was probably stunned by the apology alone; he wasn't known for being able to break down and say he was sorry, and the last time they'd spoken, he had shouted awful, hateful things at her, blaming her for things that were his fault and his alone. It may have taken him over a month to realize that, but it was true.

"You don't have to say anything; I just needed to tell you." He lowered himself heavily down into a chair, resting his forehead against his palm.

"Tony," she started, her voice sounding pinched in his ear. She laughed roughly before continuing, "Are you sure you're not drunk?"

"Unless there's liquor in my water," he replied quietly, feeling even more miserable with the implication that she didn't think he'd be making the effort on his own.

She made some kind of humming noise. "That was, I shouldn't have said that."

"It's alright. I deserve it. I'll let you get back to sleep now."

"No, don't. Don't. Don't hang up. We haven't talked in a long time."

"I'm sorry for that, too. What I said, what I did, the last time, I didn't mean it. Forgive me."

There was silence on her end for a long time before she finally answered. "I do, Tony. I shouldn't have said what I said either."

He closed his eyes, remembering the angry words she'd hurled his way, the sarcastic admonishments for not even trying anymore. No, she hadn't been passive in their fight. His Michelle could give as well as she got. Even if it had ended with him grabbing her arm and using his physical size against her, something it almost made him sick to remember.

"How's your arm?"

He imagined her touching the spot he'd wrapped in his grip, and just hoped that the mottled bruises he envisioned had faded, or never existed at all.

"It's fine. It only hurt for a day or so."

Even a day was too long, he wanted to retort, when he never should have hurt her to begin with.

"Tony?"

"Mmm?"

"What made you call me tonight? Why not tomorrow, or Friday, or never?"

Why had he chosen then to pick up the phone? He could have just as easily never done so, and gone on telling himself and everyone else that he was the victim and she was the bad guy. It was what he'd spent a month saying anyway; she'd thrown him to the wolves, abandoned him when everything got rough. For some reason today he'd accepted that it wasn't true and he'd been unable to convince himself that he didn't need to call. His head said to leave her be, but the part of him that woke up on the couch in someone else's home every morning, missing her warmth… that part inevitably won.

"I don't know," he admitted quietly. "I love you and I needed to hear your voice," he added with even less volume.

She could have sniffed, but he wasn't sure. He guessed that was a good thing about the phone, he didn't have to see it when he made her cry again.

"I love you, too."

"I don't want it to be like this."

"Me neither."

He sighed. "I can't find a job, Michelle. I shouldn't have wasted those couple I had-"

"There'll be more. Don't give up."

He looked to the ceiling, feeling the familiar shred of annoyance at her empty assurances and tamping it down. She meant well, she really did, and he loved her for trying. He shifted the phone, scratching his cheek.

"Tony?"

"Hmm?"

"If you come home, can we start over?"


End file.
